Dog's Eye View
by amor-remanet
Summary: SLASH, CrowleyxAziraphale. An older Adam confronts a reluctant Crowley about his very undemonic feelings for Aziraphale.


**A/N: **A fit of madness brought on by God only knows what. Crowley, Adam, Dog, Aziraphale, et al. all belong to Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman; I'm simply borrowing them and will return them unscathed.

Though he's not the most intelligent beast, Dog is far from stupid. He knows how to sit, shake, roll over, and play dead. He knows the names of The Master's three little friends, though he has, on two separate occasions, confused The Brian with The Wensleydale; as the only female, The Pepper is hard to mistake. It's taken him some time, but he has learned the most effective ways to catch rabbits and where they like to hide in the garden, and he always knows when Feeding Time will be. He can also tell when Things Are Up.

Whenever the "uncle" known as Crowley comes over, Things are definitely Up, even more so when he is accompanied by the "uncle" known as Fell…or Aziraphale. That one has more than one name, which is terribly confusing and makes Dog's head hurt. Usually, this is remedied by a quick roll in the mud and a look from the Master that confirms any suspicions of Things Being Up.

The Crowley comes over alone this time, in the same sunglasses as always. The Master's parents are heading out the door for a Night Out when he does (strange, Dog thinks, that they really don't know The Crowley, but leave The Master with him; it must be one of The Master's tricks). Following standard procedure, he makes a pot of the yellow noodles Dog isn't allowed to eat appear on the stove and leaves The Master to his own Devices while he goes to sleep on the sofa. Such a formula has served the three of them well for the two years since That Day, and The Crowley seems less likely to change it than The Master seems likely to make him.

Because he _could_; he just _doesn't_ for reasons that Dog doesn't think to fathom.

Dog whines and chases his tail as The Master helps himself to the noodles; one of The Master's Looks makes him stop, though. Obeying a silent command, he sits patiently, looking up at The Master's odd calm and, occasionally, at the room where The Crowley is sleeping.

"I know, Dog," The Master sighs. "And it's ridiculous."

Dog whines slightly.

"You're right. It's even worse that Az hasn't done something about it…"

Dog whines more. He's pretty sure that he knows where this is going, and he can't say that he likes it.

"Precisely!" The Master's face lights up in a Grin. "Since he won't, we will!"

Dog leans to the floor and hides his head under his paws. No, he definitely doesn't like this. Interrupting himself, The Master leaves his yellow noodles behind and motions for Dog to follow. Cursing his own obedience, Dog does so, and they enter the room to find – as expected – The Crowley sleeping on the sofa, still in his sunglasses and shoes. He groans when The Master pokes him in the stomach, but doesn't react further until his sunglasses are removed. At first, the light seems to bother him, but he adjusts quickly and looks up at The Master with yellow eyes that make even Dog cower.

"'scuse me, …Uncle Crowley?" The Master ventures, cautious but not too much so.

"What d'ya need, kid?" The Crowley sighs.

"To ask you a question, actually."

"Okay. What?"

"Do you like Uncle Aziraphale?"

The Crowley furrows his brow and narrows the eyes. Dog isn't quite sure they're really his yet. He hasn't seen them before, and they have narrow slits, not like the other humans' eyes. The Crowley, he reminds himself, isn't exactly human, but he's human enough, save those eyes.

"I suppose I must," he huffs. "Being that he and I are sort of friends… enemy for six-thousand years and whatnot."

"No, no, _no_!" The Master explains, "I mean... do you _like_ him like him?"

"…_Why_?"

"Because you look at him funny like and I want to know."

"Curiosity-"

"Killed the cat, I know. But… please tell me?"

The Crowley sighs. "…He's endearing, I guess."

The Master regards him with disbelief, also narrowing his eyes. "Yeah, _right_."

"Kid, if you're trying to set something up, there are better ways to go about it."

"I'm _not_ trying! There's something there, and I think he deserves to know. You never know, he might like you back!"

"…You're too young to understand it, kid."

"I can make him, can't I?"

"It's possible. But you shouldn't. It's what we professionals would call 'a gross misuse of your powers.'"

"Okay, but you should still tell him. I mean, if you're gonna tell _me_ about right and wrong."

"Didn't ssssay right and wrong now, did I?"

"No, but you meant it."

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. What'ssss it to you?"

"…I dunno, but it's _something_, since you're telling _me_."

Once again, The Crowley sighs. He's hissing, which Dog finds to be completely new and interesting. Some vague inkling of hearing that noise before occurs to Dog, but he buries it like a bone when he looks up at the Demon. For some reason, he looks tired and worn down, and, when he rubs the bridge of his nose, he looks almost… broken.

"Look, kid," he says calmly. "Sometimesss you can't tell someone the whole truth… essspecially not here."

"Why not?" The Master asks.

The Crowley coughs, which Dog supposes composes him. "Don't you know what Aziraphale _is_?"

"…Gayer than a-"

"No, that's a joke between him and me. Technically, he _can't_ be gay unless he really wants to make the effort."

"Oh, right… sexless. Could I change that if I wanted to?"

"I don't _know_. Maybe. Back to the question: what _is_ Aziraphale?"

"An angel?"

"Principality, technically, but no one gives a damn about the titles anymore. Either way you slice it, we can be _friends_, him and me, but never anything more. It's right dangerous our even being friends… one wrong move and either he Falls or I find myself in a world of hurt from your father – _no_, kid, your _real_ father, the _evil_ one – and neither of these outcomes really _appeals_ to me."

"But doesn't lying make you feel bad?"

"If it did, I wouldn't have Fallen. Besides, it's not _lying_ as much as it is not telling him for our collective safety."

The Master pouts and raises an eyebrow. "All due respect, but… yeah _right_, Uncle Crowley."

"What do you _want_ me to say? That it's killing me not to tell him? Because that's not even an appropriate hyperbole, since dying would just be a temporary inconvenience."

"I want you to tell the truth…"

"I don't feel like it."

"I can make you, can't I?"

"It's possible, but… _fine_, your Antichrist-ness… the truth. The honest to goodness, hand to Him, swear it on the Bentley truth is that I, A.J. Crowley, a demon, feel very undemon-like things about Aziraphale. And some _very_ demon-like things, don't get me wrong, I'm true to my roots and always will be, but the fact remains that… this, for me, isn't _normal_."

"…But it's what's there, right?"

"Yes, regrettably."

"So why don't you-"

"This is not a matter I'm going to discuss any further. Now… I'm going to sleep, and _you_ are going to go… play pirates, or seduce Pepper, or… do whatever thirteen-year-old Antichrists _do_."

True to his word, The Crowley falls asleep on the sofa to The Master's visible disappointment. He furrows his brow and pouts, and a few of The Mother's photograph coasters jingle on the table. But The Master breathes in deeply, pushing his hair back off his face; then he scratches Dog behind the ears. Dog whines somewhat – he can't help it; The Master's mind has always affected his somewhat – and gives The Master a sympathetic nuzzle on the leg.

"Come on, boy," he sighs. "Let's go find Pepper, Brian, and Wensleydale and do something."

Dog whines.

"Oh, we'll be back for Uncle Crowley alright. Just let him sleep for now, I reckon."


End file.
